


To Whomever May Find This, A Note, Concerning a Mrs. Amelia Williams and Myself, Sherlock Holmes

by afteriwake



Series: In So Few Words [270]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/Amy Pond (Doctor Who), F/M, Letters, Mentioned River Song, Mentioned Thirteenth Doctor, Mentioned Twelfth Doctor, POV First Person, POV Sherlock Holmes, Past Amy Pond/Rory Williams - Freeform, Post-Episode: The Abominable Bride, Relationship History, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes's Retirement, Time Travel, Victorian, Victorian Amy Pond, Victorian Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Sherlock Holmes writes a letter, to whomever it may concern.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Amy Pond (Doctor Who)
Series: In So Few Words [270]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/709206
Comments: 7
Kudos: 4





	To Whomever May Find This, A Note, Concerning a Mrs. Amelia Williams and Myself, Sherlock Holmes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlowingMechanicalHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowingMechanicalHeart/gifts).



> My little sister **GlowingMechanicalHeart** has been having a rough time and I wanted to cheer her up, so I wrote a rambly letter from Sherlock as a Wholock fic for her. I thought I'd try something new, hun, and I hope you like it.

When Amelia began her career as a writer – not a travel writer, but a writer of fiction, that is – she enlisted the help of all she knew whenever it came to her research. She poured over books and documents, badgered the Doctor to take her to various points in time and to let her loose in the TARDIS’s wardrobe, and anyone and anything that could help was consumed by her.

Through some events that couldn’t fully be explained by anyone, she was ripped through space and time once again and deposited away from her husband in the Victorian Era, where her daughter River rescued her. The Doctor, River said, had regenerated. Turned into a crotchety old man with whom she was spending her last night, but it was a strange last night that would last far longer than a regular night. Amelia’s heart broke. The Doctor was not her Doctor any longer, soon her daughter would disappear and Rory was in the future, in a place she could no longer reach.

River said she could take her anywhere, but first, there was someone she should meet. Well, two people; Madame Vastra, one of the premier minds in the Victorian Era and dear friend of the Doctor, introduced her to the dashing man known as Sherlock Holmes and his partner, John Watson. And Amelia had to, perhaps grudgingly, admit that Sherlock was _fascinating_. Everything Conan Doyle had said he was an more. But how was Sherlock alive and well in the Victorian Era and yet a figment of imagination in her future?

It turned out he wasn’t entirely a figment; Conan Doyle had brought him to life in blaring color and heated breath in this universe, where women paraded as a dead bride to get their freedom. And she wrote about the case from the perspective of a woman, having made friends with one Margaret Hooper when she was researching at St. Bartholomew’s. She was hiding secrets and in time, the two women shared them with each other, and then Margaret was gone, off on voyages with a different Doctor, a woman in highwater pants and rainbow-striped shirts, who had a sad look in her eye when she saw Amelia again.

And then it came to us. I am the figment, the fancy, and the fully fleshed human whom Amelia only knew as a character in stories written long before her time. I am the partner she hadn’t been looking for, the paramour she hadn’t hoped for, the second chance at love for her, the first chance I’d had to allow my heart to feel. Her history is my future and my past and all around, but it matters not. Amelia Williams is the woman I love, and should this note find anyone fortunate enough to want to know what happened to me after my time in London had passed, she is the happiness I long sought after, and I can leave London knowing it was all for the best.

Sincerely,  
Sherlock Holmes


End file.
